I Love You Please Forgive Me
by DarkRoseAngelScarlet
Summary: This wasn't supposed to be how it ended, but oh well.. Pairings: FayeSpike. Let's just say her gun has 6 chambers, all right?


**_Authoress: Michelle C._**

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**_Date: November 9, 2003_**

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**_Series: Cowboy Bebop_**

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**_Disclaimers: All things considered if I owned Cowboy Bebop or any of the characters in Cowboy Bebop, I'd be rich and famous. Have you ever heard of me besides on www.fanfiction.net or www.fictionpress.net (or some other writing site over the 'net)? No? There ya go._**

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I Love You… Please Forgive Me 

            It's been six months now. He's not coming back.

            I knew it the moment that he died; I felt my heart tear and I heard it cry even though I couldn't myself. Somehow I knew that day and somehow I didn't allow my tears to fall. I think I was too numb. I still am right now.

            For six months I've been a zombie, an animated lump of flesh moving the monotonous motions of life going day in and day out in the same old fashion. It's hard to believe that six months had even passed.

            Spike. He's not coming back.

            Did you find out whether you were ever alive? What a stupid question. Of course you were alive. Or were you? Perhaps you were right and you weren't alive. That's how I feel now. I exist but I'm not living. What is Life when there is no purpose?

            But you had a purpose. Or you thought you had a purpose. Isn't thinking you had a purpose enough to drive you onward in life? Your thoughts were all Julia this, Julia that, Julia everything. You had something—someone—to keep you motivated, to keep you alive.

            Me? I have nothing and nobody. Not anymore.

            And do you know how easy it would be to just… to just die right now? It's amazing how a small piece of metal could decide the fate of a living, breathing human. But this human isn't living so she doesn't have much of a future anyways, does she?

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            _Faye._

            Spike? Is that you? No… That can't be you. It just can't be right. You're dead, Spike. Fate, you're such a bitch. You must team up with Lady Luck all the time and have nights where you play a games of poke-fun-at-the-unfortunate-Faye, don't you?

            _Faye…_

            Stop it… I don't want to hear his voice anymore. I can't stand it…

            _Faye!_

            What is it? What do you want? Just leave me alone!

            "Faye. Faye, snap out of it!"

            "Wha—huh?"

            "Faye, are you all right?"

            "Oh, it's you, Jet…" I said groggily. "What happened?"

            "You blacked out," he said bluntly with in annoyed tone. "And you also let the bounty get away. Again."

            I rubbed my head with my somewhat numb hand. "I'm sorry."

            Jet growled and signed off the comm. system with a soft blip and a flash of the screen. He was mad at me again. It sure wasn't the first time I'd let a bounty get away in the past six months. Every time was my fault since I either hesitated or was too slow.

            Every time was Spike's fault since I always thought of him.

            I shook my head to chase away the lingering images of him. _'Get over, Faye. He's been gone for six months. He's not coming back. Even if he's not dead—an unlikely possibly—he wouldn't come back to the Bebop. There's nothing for him here… There never was…'_

            Damn that bastard of a man.

            I sighed and started up my starship again; it had stalled when I fainted. It was a miracle that I was still alive since Tashiba, our bounty, could easily have finished me off. I pushed the ship to its limits when I flew it back to the Bebop.

            As I stepped out of the ship, I expected Jet to be there with a frown on his face and a lecture on the tip of his tongue. The usual.

            But he was nowhere to be found.

            I check the bonsai room. I checked the kitchen. I checked his room and even Ed's room and my own; I didn't even touch the handle of Spike's.

            He'd abandoned me. Finally, Jet had had enough of my shit and he took off. That figures. Not a word of goodbye, not anything.

            It was then that it hit me that the Bebop was completely silent. Where were the Mutt and that hyperactive little brat? I guess they left, too. Yes, I remember now. The Hammerhead was gone when I pulled my ship into dock of the Bebop. Yup. They're all gone now and I'm left all alone.

            Alone…

            I was alone again. Why was I always alone? Infuriated, I picked up the closest blunt object and threw it against the wall. I feel a little bad for the bonsai tree, now that I think of it, and Jet must have thrown such a hissy fit when he saw his poor baby in pieces.

            The lonely sound echoed in the empty ship, which was the exact moment the air conditioning system kicked in. The hum was somewhat comforting, but it did nothing for me except remind me how utterly alone I was in the ship.

            Tears stung my eyes for the first time in… I don't even remember how long it had been.

            I was alone. Again. Why did everybody always abandon me? First I was in that accident fifty-something years ago and was put into cryogenic sleep. When I awoke, I had no idea who I was and was utterly alone in the whole universe. Then I had Whitney for a while… and then he disappeared as well.

            Years later, I stumbled upon Jet and… Spike and I had a family for a while again. And then my past started coming back. Why do all the bad things always happen to the people who don't deserve them?

            All right, I'll admit that I cheated a lot and I ran away, but I was so confused and so afraid… Doesn't it mean anything that I can admit that? Doesn't it mean anything at all that I can admit that I was afraid? That I, the Shrew Woman, the Poker Alice was afraid? Does it all mean nothing?

            I don't think I was even aware that my feet took me towards Spike's room at that point. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I could have walked out of the spacecraft with nothing more than a helmet on and not notice.

            And then I was at his door. I had spent countless nights just standing in the exact same spot in the past six months just hoping and hoping that it would suddenly slide open and reveal Spike's poofy green afro he calls hair. But, of course, that was all in vain. He would never be back.

            I placed my hand gently on the door and closed my eyes, remembering everything about the cold metal texture of the door—his door—and then dropped my hand limply to my side. I continued to walk down the short hallway to the next room: Edward and Ein's room.

            The interior was 'decorated' with heaps of mechanical devices. Of course. What else would that little brat do with her so-called room? I smiled slightly as I envisioned her sleeping on top of everything, the corners jutting out of absolutely ever piece of machinery there, and yet she was still content in her closet-like room.

            I closed the door with a soft click and turned around to the door across form Ed's: Jet's room. I breathed a sigh and willed myself not to cry and feel even more abandoned than I did before and opened his room slowly. A rush of scents hurried to my nose and nearly knocked me off my feet; it was definitely Jet's room. I sat on his thin bed—nothing more than a couple of blankets and a pillow—and stared mindlessly around me. His walls were bare and so was the rest of his room, save a small trinket here or there. It reminded me of my father's room from long ago…

            I quietly slipped out of Jet's room and continued all the way to the end of the hallway where my space was. My sanctuary, my haven, my final resting place.

            I closed my eyes before I walked into my door; I knew the trajectory to my closet better than anything because I had planned this moment in my head ever since I felt that last tug in my heart six months ago.

            Numbly, I reached a hand out and opened the small, cramped closet space and found the gun without sneaking a peek with my eyes. This was the gun I had fired the day Spike left, my older version of—well, an older version from the past. I was a lot like Spike in that way: collecting things from the past because they were better than what the present or the future brought, like his old ship and… I can't say her name even now.

            I heard a click as I slowly brought it up to my head and unlocked the safety.

            This is it then; this is the end. _I love you, Spike… I'm coming to be with you, now. Please forgive me._


End file.
